


Tale As Old As Time

by matteahayn



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bi Peter Parker, Bi Ricky Bowen, Big Brother Peter Parker, Multi, Teenage Morgan Stark - Freeform, ace lesbian morgan stark, ashlyn uses she/they pronouns, bascially morgan is friends with all the hsmtmts characters, gay pining, ill add more tags as I update, lots of theater kid drama, morgan stark and gina porter are in the same french class, morgan stark east high au, morgan stark is a swimmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matteahayn/pseuds/matteahayn
Summary: Morgan Stark was perfectly fine living in New York being the Iron Girl in secret until her dad decides to retire and move the whole family to Salt Lake City. She tells herself she's not going to get wrapped in the drama of East High until she meets a very pretty girl who just so happens to be in the theater department.Basically my take on what would happen if Morgan Stark transferred to East High for Season 2 of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series
Relationships: Big Red/Ashlyn Caswell, Morgan Stark/Gina Porter, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Bienvenue

The last thing that I, Morgan Stark, wanted for my junior year was to be uprooted halfway through and moved from New York to Salt Lake City, Utah. I’ve heard it’s one of the least friendly places for someone…. like me. I can’t be gay or be the iron girl here without getting caught. Of course, my dad didn’t know or care about any of that when he decided we needed a “fresh start” after he retired, so I’ve shoved my lesbianism and super suit back into the closet.   
I had stood in my room in our split level house that was so different from our lush inner-city apartment and opened said closet that morning, planning out what I was going to wear for my first day at East High. It’s not like I cared what a bunch of western suburban kids thought of me, but I still wanted to make a good first impression. Apparently, my new school was where they filmed High School Musical or something, but I had never really seen it. Something about happy go lucky teens dancing on tables and with basketballs just didn’t fly well in the Stark household.   
I try not to be self-conscious about being dropped off in front of the obviously not as posh as my previous school by my dad’s assistant. Happy followed us out here because of course he did, but his duties now mostly consisted of driving to get me coffee and helping my parents do their shopping. I suppose it’s an adjustment for all of us.   
“Bye, Happy,” I thank him quickly, popping open the passenger door and slipping outside into the January cold. I shiver in my striped tee and cardigan as the slick black Audi zooms away. I know my parents said they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves here, and they wanted a modest life, but the fancy sports car is obviously drawing interest from the crowd gathered outside. I assume not a lot of people have nice vehicles like that because there are whispers as I make my way up the steps and into the building. I try not to crumple down into the ball of embarrassment right there in the front hallway. I take a deep breath in front of the office doors and step inside. Immediately the musty smell of a waiting room hits me and I make a conscious effort not to crinkle my nose. Most schools don’t have as much money as my high-tech STEM high school in Manhattan, I remind myself as I step up to the counter.   
“Hey,” I breathe when the secretary smiles at me and stares through her moon-shaped glasses. “I’m Morgan Stark? I’m new and I’m here to pick up my schedule?”   
“Oh yes!” she responds and starts rummaging through all the documents on her desk. She flips through a pile and pulls one out with an “aha!” She hands it to me and says, “Welcome to East High! Let me know if you need anything!”   
“Ummm hmmm,” I nod absently, already tuning out to look at what classes I’ll have to slog through. 

period 1- college prep english 11   
period 2- ap chemistry   
period 3- ap u.s. history   
Lunch   
period 4- honors french 2   
period 5- adv. trig   
period 6- sports and fitness 

I’m pleasantly surprised at the level of rigor, and I’m smiling to myself when a voice behind me scares me.   
“Hey,” they say, and I jump and turn around to see a brown-skinned boy about my height with clear glasses and a gap between his teeth smiling at me. I step back from the desk, realizing that I’m blocking the way.   
“You’re Morgan right?” he asks, suddenly panicked by the shock on my face. His shoulders slump in relief when I nod. “I’m Carlos Rodriguez, and welcome to East High!” he sings, holding out his hand to shake.   
“Thanks…..” I manage, returning the gesture. What is this kid doing here?   
“I was assigned to be your guide to show you to your classes, and also give you the rundown of the school’s history since I’m the resident High School Musical historian!” The pride in his voice is evident and I smile half-heartedly, not wanting to dampen his spark. Seriously, how is he so enthusiastic, especially for a Monday morning after winter break? “If you’ll follow me, I can take you to….” he trails off, unfamiliar with my schedule.   
“English,” I explain, double-checking to make sure that’s right.   
“English, yes,” Carlos nods and turns out the door. I pick my pace to follow him because he’s walking super fast and almost talking at the same rate. He spews random facts about the filming of the movie and the history of the theater and sports program as we push through the hall and down the stairs to the English department. Apparently, the theater got burned down in November during their production of High School Musical the Musical. “It got rebuilt over the holiday break though,” he reassures me, but I’m still wondering what kind of insane circus, Disney channel drama set I’ve walked into. “Any questions?” he asks cheerily as if he didn’t just admit that the theater kids are arsonists.   
“Uh yeah,” I gulp as we stop in front of my first-period class. “Is everyone here as insanely obsessed as you?” Carlos lets out a huge laugh of surprise, his face growing red. I immediately feel bad for wording it so bluntly, but he doesn’t seem to take high offense.   
“Thankfully no,” he admits. “Having no chill is kinda my thing.” Before I can come up with a response, his phone dings and he pulls it out of his pocket. His face breaks out into a grin and he types out a rapid response. He blushes when he looks back up at me. “Speaking of chill, I kinda gotta go right now. My boyfriend is freaking out about his audition and I promised I’d help him practice.”   
“Your boyfriend?” I ask automatically. We flinch in tandem.   
“Do you have a problem with that?” Carlos asks defensively, and I shake my head vigorously.   
“No! No! That’s not what I meant!” I insist, cursing my impulsive mouth. “I just didn’t realize there were…. others like me.” The words tumble out before I have the chance to second guess them. So much for staying in the closet. It figures I would only last about 10 minutes. My guide smiles understandingly, and I feel a brief moment of connection pass between us. It takes me aback because I didn’t expect to find someone I could be friends with so quickly. Or… at all. Carlos may be a lot to handle but he’s a cool dude. He’s so authentic about who he is and what he loves, which is way more than I expected coming here. It almost feels like the home I knew back in NYC. He must be thinking the same thing, because he clears his throat.   
“This might sound weird, but did you uh.. Want to exchange numbers?” he asks hesitantly, and despite my reservations, I smile.   
“I’d love that,” I say, and pull my phone out of my pocket. 

The rest of the morning passes mostly uneventfully, except for of course the questions about “Are you really THE Tony Stark’s daughter?” and “Do you actually know the Avengers?” The answer is yes to both but it’s not like I could or would want to brag about that. I’m pleased when my chemistry teacher Mr. Mazarra invites me to join the robotics club, even if it’s after he questions me about how the Iron Man suit works. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to compete in STEM here, but he seems VERY enthusiastic about it.   
Carlos invites me to eat lunch with him and his friends, but I decline because I’m not ready to brave the cafeteria quite yet. If it’s anything like in the movies it will put me over the edge for what High School Musical lore I can handle for the day. I sit on the stairwell and eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich (grape jelly, of course, I’m allergic to strawberries like my mother and I make sure my dad doesn’t forget it) and an apple, mindlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed. I get a follow request from Carlos and go to his profile. It’s the most well-curated, aesthetic account I’ve ever seen from a high schooler. There are some pictures of him posing in various dance positions and showing off outfits and several recent ones of him and a blonde boy who I assume is his boyfriend. They’re so cute it makes my stomach hurt a little bit. I click on a pic from a month ago that’s apparently from their closing cast party at Denny’s and my heart stops because there’s maybe the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen standing there with her arm around Carlos. She has warm brown eyes and skin, dark curly hair pulled back from her face, and she’s laughing adorably at something out of frame. I immediately start to grow sweaty as I click on her profile. It’s privated and I’m not brave enough to request to follow, but I find out her name is Gina. I mouth it softly to myself and it sounds so sweet on my lips. I’m about to go back to stare at the group picture some more when I get a notification from Peter. As in Peter Parker, Spider-Man, the boy who’s pretty much like a brother to me.   
~ Hey, Morgs. How’s your first day as a wildcat going? ~   
Even though I’m not an emotional person, I could almost cry that he remembered to text me. I would fully understand if he was too busy being a 28-year old back in New York, but he obviously understands what it’s like to be an outsider in high school.   
~ It’s… interesting ~ I reply honestly. ~ Did you know their mascot is actually the leopards? ~  
I can remember that from Carlos’s long speech at least.   
~ No way! ~ I smile because I can hear his voice in my head.   
~ Yeah! ~ I agree. ~ And they have a robotics club too! ~   
~ SICK! ~ Peter is as big of a science nerd as I am, so I knew he would appreciate that.   
~ Are there any pretty girls? ~ he asks, and my heart starts beating out of my chest. I know he didn’t mean to read my mind, but I’m feeling pretty exposed right now even though I’m actually pretty used to talking to him about this stuff.   
Here’s the thing: Peter is the only one in my family that I’ve come out to so far. It’s not that I think my parents wouldn’t be accepting, but it’s just different with them. I’m worried they will make it a thing or pretend like it's not a thing and I don’t think I could handle that. With Peter, it was just easy. It’s not like he’s completely straight either, so we can pester each other about our hopeless crushes all day long.   
~ I can neither confirm or deny that she may be a theater kid ~  
~ Oh god, be careful ~ he jokes. I watch the dots appear and then disappear again a few times before he sends his next message. ~ really though, i’m here for you whenever you need. Even it’s two am here because you know my sleep schedule is shit ~   
I laugh out loud at that because it’s very true. We’re both too addicted to caffeine for our own good.   
~ LMAOOO I know. ~   
~ have a good day iron sis ~   
~ You too spidey bro ~   
I shut my phone with a sigh and shove it into my pocket. It hits me all over again how much I miss NYC, and even though I’m smiling, I shut my eyes against the tears. There are so many emotions going through me, and I need to recoup before someone sees me looking like a crazy person. I make a beeline for the nearest bathroom and lock myself in the furthest stall. I’m shaking like crazy and I have to remind myself to take deep breaths as I rub my thumbs along my arm. I need something to distract myself.   
I pause for a minute to listen to make sure no one’s in here, and I don’t see any feet, so I turn on my comfort music playlist and start singing along. It’s the song Belle from my favorite Disney movie out of the few I’ve seen, Beauty and the Beast. I shove my phone into my front jean pocket and go to wash my hands. The music builds and I grow more confident, projecting over the sound of the song. Belting in an empty public bathroom is not something I would normally do, but some of the magic of being here must have rubbed off on me. Plus, the lyrics about feeling trapped and out of place in a “poor, provincial town” are a little too relatable right now.   
The song ends, and I look up at my reflection in the mirror. My light brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail for practicality, my freckles are almost nonexistent because they lighten in winter, my blue eyes are clearing of tears, and my tall, lanky frame is hunched over the cold white ceramic of the sink. I don’t have time to wallow in the sadness of the sight because the stall door closet to the door slams open a curly red-head lady my height who looks to be or be approaching middle age walks out.   
“That was beautiful!” She says, sounding like she’s going to cry. “I think I’ve found my Belle!”   
“W-what?” I ask. I blink rapidly as I try to process the situation.   
“Oh, silly me,” she giggles, placing her hand on her chest. “I’m Miss Jenn, director of the drama club here.”   
“I’m M-Morgan,” I spit out.   
“Well, Morgan, you’ve just got cast in our production of Beauty of the Beast.” Is this lady insane? This is exactly why I don’t fraternize with theater people: they don’t know boundaries.   
“You haven’t even seen me act,” I point out. How could she even trust that a girl she just mildly assaulted in the bathroom could even hold their own onstage?   
“Call it instincts,” she winks and taps her forehead. “Come down to the auditorium after school and I’ll be posting the cast list.” My heart drops. I have the worst absolute worst stage fright of anyone I know. There’s no way I could go on stage, let alone be a lead in a play. The only time I ever sing is when I’m alone in the shower.   
“Miss…” I start to protest, but she’s already heading out the door.

It takes me so long to find my next class after lunch that I slip in the door just as the bell rings.   
“Cutting it close,” Madame Blanchard notes, and the whole class looks at me.   
“Sorry,” I mumble, looking at the floor, but she smiles at me.   
“Please take a seat,” she motions to the empty desk in the middle of the classroom and I power walk over to sit. I’m not really paying attention during roll because my mind is so distracted by everything that happened today. I’m thinking about how I’m gonna handle the whole Miss Jenn situation when the door creaks open again. I look up and my palms immediately go sweaty and my heart is racing because it's Gina. Gina is standing right there.   
“Mademoiselle Porter!” Madame cheers. “Bienvenue en classe! I heard you would be here. Take a seat, my dear.” Gina nods, her curly hair flying all over the place, and starts heading straight towards me. I look around panicking and realize the only empty seat is next to me. She slides into the desk and gives me a small smile. I muster a smile back while trying not to pass out right there on the spot.   
If I miss a couple of things during class that day because I’m staring at Gina, I don’t think you can blame me. Her jawline and tight jacket are almost enough to make me forget about the crazy day I’ve had already. I’m taken aback when the bell rings because this was the first class all day that I haven’t been watching the clock the whole time. The rest of the students start to file out, and Gina’s back is to me as she puts everything back into her bag. I stand there for a minute, debating whether I should say something or just avoid the chance of making a fool of myself. She takes a step to walk away, and a wave of bravery passes over me.   
“Are you new in this class too?” I call out. She stops to whip around to face me.   
“What?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in confusion.   
“Because Madame said she heard you would be here, and you were late, so I… uh… kinda assumed.” My face is already growing hot as I stumble over the words.   
“Oh.” Her lips close into a pursed position. “It’s kind of a long story.”  
“Try me,” I smile, stepping up to her. I’ve met plenty of girls like her: they’re closed off until you get to know them and then they drop the lone wolf act. I’m not going to let them intimidate me anymore. She glances over at me, impressed by my boldness.   
“So I’m sort of new again?” she starts as we follow the rest of the class out the door. “I transferred here at the start of the school year but my mom got another job offer at Thanksgiving and we ended up moving again,” she sighs.   
“And then you just moved back?” I guess. We squeeze past the clump of freshmen blocking the hallway to the math hall.   
“Not exactly,” she says, looking down at the floor. “I ended up taking a plane to come back here for the opening night of our musical, and my friend Ash had the idea to stay with her so I could do the spring show.”   
Oh right. Gina’s a theater kid. So if I did the show…. I would get to see her.   
“I have to fly back to see my mom every other weekend though,” she continues. “That’s why I was late…. I was just there.” I nod, processing all of the information.   
“Wow, that’s a lot of traveling,” I note. “You must really like the theater program here.” I realize the truth to them as soon as they’re out of my mouth. I expect Gina to think it's stupid, but she smiles to herself and her eyes get a glazed far-off sheen.   
“Yeah,” she agrees, and the look on her face is enough to convince me to go against all of my better instincts and see what East High musicals are all about. 

Cast list:   
Belle…………………………………………….. Morgan Stark  
Belle understudy……………………… .Nini Salazar-Roberts  
Beast……………………………………………. E.J. Caswell  
Gaston…………………………………………...Gina Porter   
Lefou……………………………………………..Seb Matthew-Smith  
Lumiere…………………………………………..Ricky Bowen  
Plumette………………………………………….Nini Salazar-Roberts  
Cogsworth……………………………………....Carlos Rodriguez  
Madame Gardrobe……………………………..Kourtney Greene  
Mrs. Potts……………………………………….Ash Caswell  
Chip……………………………………………...Big Redonivitch


	2. The Second Read-Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part/episode 2 of my Morgan Stark HSMTMTS AU. It's the day after Morgan gets cast as Belle, and it's time for a run-through, where she sits next to a very pretty dancer.

Tuesday, January 5

“Don’t worry about picking me up,” I tell Happy as he pulls up to East High that morning. “I.. .uh..have something after school.”   
“Robotics?” He asks, and I shake my head at the ground.   
“No, uh, I got cast in a play?”   
“Really...” the man snorts, and I can’t blame him because I don’t really seem very sure of it.   
“Yes,” I confirm, lifting my chin up.   
“I didn’t know you were into plays,” he says, still suspicious. Why does he think I’m hiding something? Well, I kinda am, but I’m still gonna do the musical.   
“Well, I’m usually not,” I agree. “But new school, new me I guess?”   
“Ummm hmmm,” he nods absently. “Have fun.” I take that as my cue to leave.   
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I pull the passenger door open and turn towards the school. There’s not nearly as many kids mingling there today as there was yesterday, and even the ones who are there don’t take much of a notice. I let out a sigh of relief. 

The rest of the day passes mostly uneventfully. I eat alone again, telling myself I’ll brave the cafeteria next week. At least I’m not assaulted by a high-strung director this time. In French, we do partner work, but Gina and I are paired with other people. It’s probably a good thing though because I wouldn’t have gotten any work done with her.   
As soon as the last school bell rings, I check up notifications and see I’ve been added to the drama club group chat on Instagram. Carlos has sent out a text reminding everyone to meet at the bomb shelter at 3, which would be helpful if I knew where that was.   
morgan: ~ uh can someone give me directions? ~   
neeners: ~ omg hi new person ~   
sebby: ~ new person? HI ~   
richard the third: ~ wait is that THE morgan stark ~   
carlos rodriguez (he/him): ~ stop assaulting her ~   
morgan: ~ can someone answer my question? ~   
carlos rodriguez (he/him): ~ where are you? ~   
morgan: ~ just outside the gym ~   
gigi: ~ i’m right around the corner, i’ll come walk with you ~   
morgan: ~ cool, thanks ~ 

I may sound nonchalant, but inside I’m freaking out. Gina’s offering to come walk with me? My palms immediately go sweaty and I wipe them on my jeans. I barely have time to collect my breath before she’s in front of me. I guess she really was right around the corner.   
“Ready to go?” she asks, and all I can do is nod. 

When we enter, the bomb shelter is abustle with loud, energetic theater students, who apparently hadn’t seen each other “all break”. Besides a few moments of awkward silence where I hadn’t wanted to say anything and mess it all up, Gina and I had kept a fairly steady stream of conversation the whole way. She was nervous about her role, which both surprised and assured me if only a little bit.   
There was a table at the front of the room where we were told by Carlos to put our names and pronouns on our name tags. I didn’t know if that was a theater thing or just an East High thing, because even at my ultra-progressive tech school in New York, pronouns hadn’t ever been a thing that was accommodated for.   
“Do you always wear these at read-throughs?” I ask Gina, slapping the sticky side onto the front of my blouse. She shakes her head.   
“We didn’t have them last time.”   
“I thought it’d be a good idea since you know, we have new people,” Carlos butted in. Gina shrugged but I shot him a grateful smile before following her. I barely got a few steps before I was blocked by a curly brunette boy about my height in a hoodie and cuffed jeans. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes growing wide.   
“Woahhhh, Morgan Stark, right?” he choked. I nodded begrudgingly.   
“Ricky Bowen,” he beams, sticking out his hand. It takes me a minute to realize he wants me to shake it and I burst out laughing.   
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologize immediately when his face goes red. “I’m just not used to kids my age shaking hands.” His shoulders slump slightly in response. I return the gesture quickly, trying my best not to make this interaction more awkward.   
“Ricky, come on, I’m sure she doesn’t want you to fanboy over her,” a short, dark hair girl with slightly Filipino features in a white sweater comes over and grabs Ricky’s wrist.   
“It’s okay,” I sigh quietly, but he’s already being pulled away. That was certainly a weird interaction. I realize I’ve lost Gina in the shuffle and instinctively look around for her. My eyes land on the circle of chairs, where she’s already sitting. And, of course, in the spot right next to her, is my name. You would think I would be sitting next to the guy playing the Beast, but apparently, these theater people wanted to cause drama not just on stage.   
Ignoring my racing heart, I make my way across the room to my seat. I sit down quietly though without addressing her because she’s deep in conversation with her Lefou, named Seb, who I recognize from the Instagram pictures as Carlos’s boyfriend. I reach into my backpack to pull out my water bottle, and when I look up, a redhead is standing next to me. I read the name tag and see it says “Ash, she/they”. I’m taken aback for a minute. I knew there are nonbinary people and people who used they/them pronouns, although I had never met anyone personally, but I had never heard of anyone using both she and they.   
Before I can think about it, I stumble out the words, “your pronouns….”   
Ash’s eyebrows rise. “What about them?” They ask, obviously trying not to get defensive.   
“I like them,” I explain, returning from my mental tangent.   
She smiles in relief, saying, “thank you” as they sit down. They plop their backpack on the ground and I notice a bi pride flag pin. Now I’m smiling too. I actually might really fit in here. 

I felt completely out of her element the whole first act of read-through. At first, when Miss Jenn came in and did a speech I was feeling fine (except for the brief panic when I had to hold Gina’s hand) but as soon as it was time to read a line, I was overthinking everything. Everyone else read their lines with such ease and emotion, but mine just got caught in my throat. Miss Jenn said it was fine, that it was a cold read and it would be rough, but I still felt self-conscious.   
“Hey, Carlos,” I called out the choreographer as the 5-minute break was ending. I wince because it came out a lot louder than I meant to. He turns around and seems briefly surprised to see me, but smiles warmly.   
“What’s up?” he asks, coming towards me.   
“I feel I’m completely messing this up,” I admit with a shaky voice. Immediately, his grin fades to concern.   
“Oh, Morgan, no, I promise you, you’re doing great,” he tries to reassure me, but I’m skeptical. “Seriously!” he insists. “Much better than Ricky or Big Red at the last read-through.”   
“True,” agreed Seb, coming up behind his boyfriend. “I’m Seb, by the way, I never introduced myself.” He pointed at his nametag and flashed a purely adorable grin at me. This boy literally was a golden retriever.   
“Hi,” I nod back.   
“Anyways, you should listen to Carlos, he talked me off a cliff on opening night.”   
“Just have fun,” the choreographer advises. Easier said than done. Before any of us can say anything further, Miss Jenn came back and called us all to order. The boys walked away, leaving me feeling only a little more reassured. 

Okay, I have to admit that once I calm my inner monologue down, the read-through is actually really fun. Everyone laughs at the right time, sings along to the tracks on key, and ultimately just seems to be there for each other. It is a little intimidating that I’m an outsider to their bond, and how talented everyone else is. I don’t know how I’m going to live up to the rest of the leads, but I guess I got chosen for a reason, right? My friends back in New York always told me I had a hard time trusting good things. I don’t want to let that bleed into my new life.   
Speaking of good things, Gina compliments me as I’m packing up to leave.   
“Great job today,” she says.   
“What?” I look up from my backpack to turn to her. “Oh, thanks.” I hope she can’t see me blush. Thankfully, Ash interrupts before the conversation can get any more awkward.   
“Ready to go?” they ask from behind me. Gina nods, hoisting her backpack smoothly from the floor onto her back.   
“See you tomorrow,” she grins before following Ash out of the room. I watch her leave the whole way, wondering how I’m ever going to get through this production without bursting. 

It’s still only 8 pm and I need to blow off some steam. I got home shortly after 5, ate some dinner, read some of my book, and messaged a few of my old friends from school, but there was nothing left to do. Especially since it was only the second day back and my teachers hadn't assigned much homework.   
I looked over at my slightly cracked open closet, the iron girl suit taunting me in all its purple and white glory. It’s a horrible idea. My dad made me the suit as a precaution in case something like the Snap ever happened again, but with explicit directions to NOT use it for joyriding. Or tell my mother. I don’t think he even knows I brought it with me here. Well, he probably does considering I take a little too much after him. I have to do something to blow off steam though. I unlock my window and look out at the open take-off spot in front of me. Easy enough. 

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in a tree on the edge of the skate park, just a couple of blocks from the school. I don’t know what brought me here, but so far, it’s been a great place to think. I had flown around a bit, scouting out the area, but this town is so quiet. I guess that’s why kids from suburban areas like this always end up in places like skate parks.   
I watch the people down below, but there’s hardly anyone here because of course, it’s January, and it’s cold and dark. Thank god the suit has night vision and internal heating.   
I’m lost in thought, thinking about everything that had happened that day that at first, I don’t notice a redhead teenage boy coming towards me. I panic. No one was supposed to see me! My first time out in the suit and I’ve already fucked it up. Without thinking, I jump out of the tree and jet down to the ground. If I run, I can get away without him knowing who I am.   
I start to sprint away into the trees, and he calls out to me. “Wait, hold up.”  
I stop, realizing there’s no point in trying to outrun him. He’s seen me already. Or at least the suit. Without turning around, I hit the button to take off my helmet. If he doesn’t see my face, it’s fine, right? There’s no way he’d be able to recognize me from behind. Totally, completely, disastrously wrong.   
“Morgan?” he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how fast I wrote this, I hardly ever write a whole chapter in a day. I have lots of time this weekend, and inspiration, so I'm hoping I can get the next part up soon.  
> Thank you for reading, sorry for the cliffhanger at the end heeeheee.   
> Thanks to my gf for suggesting that Morgan's suit should be purple, and for making me read PeterTony fics that made me want to keep writing this.


	3. A Non-Valentine Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day party but it's Morgan trying to flirt with Gina while also doing damage control for the events of Chapter 2. There's a very long Ricky monologue at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry about the cliffhanger ending of the last chapter! I hope this one satisfies! I know I'm two weeks late to Valentine's Day, but a writer's gotta do what they gotta do. At least we have a Season 2 release day (May 14th BABYYY) so I'm going to try to finish this before then!! Thanks for reading, I appreciate your support so much!

Wednes. Jan. 6, 2021- Sun. February 14, 2021  
“You didn’t tell anyone, right?” I ask, practically gripping Big Red by the front of his shirt. It was the next morning after he had seen me at the skatepark, and I had been a nervous wreck all night.   
“No, of course, not,” the fellow cast member/tech guy reassured me. I backed away only slightly. “Well… just that I saw Iron Girl to Ash because I can’t keep anything from her. And Ricky because I know how much he loves Marvel. And he probably told Nini, and her moms might have overheard.” Panic rises again in my chest. “But other than that… no.”   
“Okay, okay,” I mutter, taking a deep breath before I blow up at this boy.   
“At least they don’t know who you are?” he bargains. I nod begrudgingly. I’m sure they’ve made the connection that Iron Girl started showing up right after Tony Stark’s daughter moved to their school.   
Suddenly he leans in closer like we’re co-conspirators. “Are you supposed to be like the new Iron Man?” he whispers. He jabs his hands out awkwardly in front of him.   
“I’m not supposed to have the suit,” I tell him. His shoulders deflate in disappointment.   
“Yeah, I suppose there’s not much crime here anyway,” he shrugs. Before I can say anything else, he turns and walks away.   
The next month and some change pass by mostly uneventfully, mostly by me staying under the radar and trying my absolute best in rehearsals even when I feel like I’m drowning. The cast is unbelievably patient with me, and I have to admit, no matter what I thought about theater, every day I feel less and less of an outsider.   
Thankfully, Belle doesn’t have much dancing, but we haven’t started rehearsing the ballroom scene and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I’ve barely talked to EJ at all so I have no idea if we’ll have chemistry together. I almost laugh at the idea because it’s so obvious I have eyes for Gina Gaston instead.   
In terms of the suit, that’s smooth sailing too, mostly because I don’t dare to wear it again. I start to think I can get away without addressing it again. That is until Big Red approaches me after rehearsal the Thursday before Valentine’s Day.   
“Hey,” he bobs to break the awkwardness of the approach. He seems nervous for some reason. That can’t be good.   
“Hi…” I shoot back, hoping he’ll get to the point.   
“You’re coming to the Valentine’s Party at Ash’s house, right?”   
“Yeah,” I nod, surprising myself. I hadn’t been sure I was going to go up until that moment. Valentine’s Day was usually like any other day; I never really put stock into it. Plus, I usually avoided high school parties as much as possible. I was very curious about what a theater kid party would look like, though. And, as a teeny tiny part of my brain reminded me, Gina would probably be there. Not that that would mean anything. But it was a factor.   
“Okay, cool,” he breathed. “Can I ask you a big favor then?” I blink for a minute. That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. The tech guy continues when he realizes I’m not going to respond. “So my friend Ricky got broken up with by Nini. Again. And he’s so heartbroken on Valentine’s Day. So I thought maybe if Iron Girl made an appearance on Sunday it would cheer him up? They don’t have to know it’s you.”   
“No,” I answer immediately. His shoulders slump in defeat. “It’s not hard to put two and two together that Morgan Stark goes to East High and suddenly Iron Girl is here in Salt Lake.”   
“It’s just going to be theater people there, okay? And half of them already know about the suit.”   
“Half of them?” I ask.   
“Word might have spread,” he admits sheepishly. “Please just think about it? Don’t you want to put on the suit anyway?”   
Shit. He’s got me there.   
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I relent. He starts to do a little happy dance, but I cut him off. “But just know I think it’s a stupid idea, and if it doesn’t work it’s your fault.”   
Big Red nods solemnly, accepting those terms.   
“See you on Sunday,” he calls, swinging his bag onto his back and heading out the door with a self-satisfied air.   
That’s how I found myself in Ash’s kitchen three days later, the suit on under my jeans and red sweater. I’m munching on Cheetos staring distractedly at my phone when I hear someone come down the steps and towards the counter. I look to see Gina and my heart stops just like every other time. She’s wearing a twirly purple dress with her sparkly sneakers. She has on glittery eyeshadow, and her hair is in a loose poof. I’ve never seen her in anything but a tight ponytail or bun, so this is a change. A really good one though.   
“Hi,” she smiles. I realize I was probably staring for a little too long.   
“Hi,” I blush back, sliding my phone into my back pocket. “Those are adorable,” I say, pointing at the heart-shaped cupcakes she has just moved to the counter.   
“Thanks,” she beams. “Youtube tutorial.”   
“You MADE these?” I ask, picking one up. Gina laughs adorably. I take a bite from the moist chocolate cake and make a satisfied mmmmmm sound. “Did I ever tell you you’re the best co-star?” I ask her.   
“Don’t tell EJ,” she teases. Right on cue, the water polo captain walks through the door.   
“Don’t tell me what?” he asks.   
“That I’m her favorite co-star,” Gina explains.   
“Ouch,” EJ winces, pretending to be hurt. He looks over at Gina and asks, “When were you gonna tell me Ricky and Nini broke up?”   
“You didn’t know that?” the dancer responds. EJ shakes his head.   
“No!” he whines. “Did you know?” he asks me.   
“Yeah,” I smirk.   
“Why do you care so much?” Gina asks. That’s actually a very good question.   
“Because they’re my friends,” he says after a pause. “And I care about them.”   
“Okay,” Gina nods, obviously not buying it. EJ’s eyes flick around for something to change the subject to.   
“You made me cupcakes?” he asks gleefully.   
“They’re not just for you.” Gina crosses her arms in front of her.   
“Well, I’ll come by later and get the extras,” EJ bargains.   
They have such a comfortable camaraderie that something seems to hit me as I watch the exchange.   
“You’re not- are you two- dating?” I ask. Immediately, they both burst out laughing. My skin goes hot in embarrassment.   
“I’m sorry to laugh,” Gina says, pulling herself together. “It’s just that…. EJ is like a brother to me.”   
“Especially since she moved in with my cousin. She’s an honorary Caswell,” he agrees. I nod in understanding. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t extremely relieved by that information.   
Gina gets called into the living room and I suppress the urge to do a happy dance. I’m still standing there like an idiot when Big Red walks in.   
“Are you ready?” He asks, not subtly. I nod and pull back my sweater to reveal the purple of my suit. He gives a thumbs up. “Awesome. So Ricky will be here any minute. All you have to do is slip into the bathroom and change and then meet him out front.”   
“I know the plan,” I say, already walking away towards the bathroom.   
“Thank you!” he calls behind me. 

The whole interaction with Ricky is awkward, to say the least. To be fair, that’s become a sort of pattern. When I walk out to the porch, he’s sitting on the steps with Big Red. The shorter boy hears the door open and turns to flash me a smile.   
“She’s here!” he tells Ricky. The curly-haired boy turns and looks at me with confusion.   
“Morgan?” he asks, standing up. Yeah, that figures. I hit the button on my helmet and my hair tumbles down.   
“Hi,” I smile.   
“Look what she’s wearing,” Big Red prompts. Ricky’s eyes widen.   
“The super suit!” he gasps. I chuckle because I don’t know how he didn’t notice until now. His face falls immediately. “Why are you doing this?”   
Big Red steps back awkwardly. “I thought…. since you’ve been down since you and Nini… you know… it would cheer you up.”   
“I already told you, I’m fine,” Ricky sighs. Now I’m the one who’s feeling uncomfortable.   
“Dude, you’ve barely left your room for the past week. I had to drag you here tonight.” Ricky blinks. He can’t argue with that.   
“Well as much as I love superheroes, I don’t think that the Iron Girl is gonna make that better.” There’s a bitter sting to his voice.  
“I was just trying to be a good friend,” Big Red snaps. He shoots the other boy one last look before storming back into the house.   
“Hey, I’m sorry-” Ricky starts, but his best friend is already long gone. He looks down at the ground and my heart breaks at how pained and guilty he looks.   
“Ricky-I,” I start to stutter, but he cuts me off.   
“I don’t need pity,” he warns.   
“Well… I was gonna give you a hug,” I offer meekly, surprisingly both of us. He looks taken aback for a second, then his lips tug slightly upward.   
“Okay,” he shrugs. I step further into the porch light and give him a quick squeeze. We stand there awkwardly for a moment after pulling away. “Thank you,” he says, “for indulging Big Red.”   
“No problem,” I assure him.   
“I feel like the crappiest friend now,” he groans, looking back at the door.   
“Well, it’s Big Red, so I’m sure he’s already forgiven you,” I point out. Ricky lets out a laugh of surprise.   
“That’s true,” he admits. “I think it hurt more cause he’s right. I have a problem with…. running away from my feelings.” He stops and shakes his head. “No, sorry, I’m oversharing.”   
“No, no, it’s fine,” I tell him. He seems like he’s on the brink of some breakthrough. If I can help him through it, I will. “Do you want to sit and talk about it?”   
He pauses for a minute to think, glancing back between me and the door. “I- yeah,” he decides. Together we walk forward and plop ourselves on the top step.   
“Nini and I have been friends for as long as I can remember,” he explains. I guess we’re jumping right into it. “I’ve had Big Red to go skating with and sleepovers and fool around, but Nini was the one I always went to when I needed to talk, you know?” I nod to show I’m listening. “When she dumped me around the same time my mom left us for Chicago and Todd this fall, it broke me. I know that sounds dumb or whatever but it felt like my world had been shaken.”   
There’s a comfortable silence as I wait for him to continue. I haven’t had a conversation like this with someone in a long time. Ricky kinda reminds me of Peter, and a pang of longing strikes my heart.   
“Anyways, the musical was kind of the only thing that got me through it. That is getting me through it. We’re a family now, and when Nini and I got back together I thought it would be perfect again, even if I had said I love you about 5 months too late. Now… I’m just worried it’s going to be awkward and I’m going to ruin the vibe we all had.”   
“You felt that way after only one show?” I ask. The idea that he might’ve once felt like just as much of an outsider as me is strangely comforting.   
“Yeah,” he nods, realizing what he’s said as well. A slow smile spreads across his face and I see the memories flashing behind his eyes. Before I have the chance to respond further to anything he’s said, Ricky keeps talking. “I guess most of my memories didn’t have to do with dating anyways,” he concludes. “I shouldn’t be relying on someone to just fix all of my problems. I should be with someone because we’re actually compatible and we can make each other better, right?” I nod. Those words certainly struck a chord in me. “Nini and I…. kinda brought out the worst in each other when we were dating.”   
“Well, I assure you, you’ll find the right person eventually.” My hand travels to his shoulder and rests there.   
“Thank you,” he smiles gratefully. “And… thank you for helping me.”   
“I don’t feel like I did that much,” I admit, and we both laugh.   
“Well, at least you listened,” he points out. “You’re a good friend.”   
After that, we go back into the party, and for the first time since I’ve arrived here, I do feel like I’ve made some friends. 

Big Red: ~ how did it go with Ricky? ~   
~ actually…. Really good. He talked through a lot of stuff ~   
~ Have you two talked at all? ~   
~ yeah, he apologized. I think we were both overreacting ~   
~ Well, even it wasn’t handled the best way,   
he needed to hear what you said. ~   
~ You’re a great friend ~   
~ thanks, Morgan. For everything. ~   
~ No problem ~


	4. Understudy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Nini makes Morgan rethink everything she had assumed about her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so shirt, but I'll be getting the next one up ASAP.   
> Okay I love you all thanks for reading byeeeeee

Nini has been acting weird around me all week and I can’t figure out why. Since she’s my understudy and is at all of my rehearsals, this has become exceedingly difficult.   
We’re working on the scene when Belle first enters the castle and meets everyone. It’s a tricky scene to nail, but Ricky and I have formed an easy camaraderie now and he keeps telling jokes to make me laugh. Every time this happens, Nini rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in front of her. Finally, after the third time I burst out into giggles, she snaps at me.   
“Can we please focus?” she asks. Her eyes bore holes into my skin.   
“What is your problem with me?” I shoot back. There is a silence as we stare each other down.   
“Now, let’s all be professional here-” Miss Jenn starts. I suddenly realize that everyone has stopped what they are doing and is watching us.   
“I’m being professional, it’s not your fault you casted two non performers as leads who can’t keep their mouths shut during a scene,” Nini whines. My face goes white and I see Ricky flinch back. Before anyone can respond, she grabs her backpack and storms out of the room, which is kind of hypocritical considering now none of us can get anything done.   
“She’s not usually like this,” Ricky offers.   
“Why are you defending her dude?” Big Red asks. I think that’s a pretty fair question.   
“She gained autonomy,” Kourtney counters. “This isn’t about him.”   
“Then what’s it about?” Ash asks.   
“It’s not my business to say,” the wardrobe answers.   
“Everyone, take five,” Miss Jenn sighs. “I see we still have many personal grievances we need to air.”   
I follow my castmates out the door and head to the left to the bathrooms. Before I can get there, though, I hear sniffles from underneath the stairs. Against my better judgment, I go towards it.   
A small, dark-haired form is hunched against the wall. I expect her to look up at me and tell me to get lost, but she surprises me.   
“I’m so sorry I blew up on you,” Nini apologizes shakily.   
“It’s okay,” I say. She shakes her head.  
“Not, it’s not,” she insists. “You didn’t deserve that just because I’m jealous.”   
“You’re jealous?” I ask in utter surprise.   
“Of course!” She acts like it’s so obvious. “You got the part I’ve always wanted, you’re freaking gorgeous without even trying, and now Ricky’s totally into you one week after we broke up.”   
“What?” I blink, still processing this information. “Ricky’s not into me-” She shakes her head in confirmation and both our shoulders slump. I step forward and she nods for me to join her. I slide down the wall and tuck my long legs against the wall.   
“It’s totally fine if you date Ricky, I was the one who broke up with him.”   
“I don’t want to date Ricky,” I blurt immediately. She raises her eyebrows in surprise and I flush. “I’m-not even into guys.”   
“Oh,” she nods. Then her eyes widen. “OH. For someone with two moms, I have the absolute worst gaydar.” We both laugh. I’m relieved at how easy that slipped out, and how Nini seemed to immediately understand me. I think we could actually be really good friends, even if we did get off to a rocky start. She must be reading my mind because she says, “Not that it’s any excuse for how I’ve treated you, but I’ve been having a pretty shitty week.” She laughs nervously again and sniffles up the last of the snot. I pause, waiting to see if she wants to share more. “My Nonna is in the hospital,” she explains. “I’ve been in such a miserable mood, and I’ve been trying to hold it together in rehearsal. Seeing you and Ricky enjoying yourselves so much just… set me off.”   
“Nini, you know you don’t have to keep it together for us, right? We’re a family.” My voice almost breaks on that last word, because it’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.   
“I know,” she sighs. “But I’ve been told I can be overly emotional sometimes. I was trying not to be so much of a pushover.”   
“You know, I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” I tell her. She looks at me in surprise. “I’m not very good at showing my feelings, so I admire that.”   
“Thank you,” she smiles. “And for the record, you are doing an amazing job as Belle. You definitely deserve the role. I shouldn’t have ever degraded you.”   
“Well, to be honest, I still don’t know how I’m going to go on stage without throwing up, so thanks for the confidence boost.”   
“Anytime,” she insists. “I mean it.”


	5. A Word of Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan runs into Gina at the pool, and gives her a ride home in exchange for advice about the show.

Late February/Early March 2020 

Being back in the water feels so nice. I’m glad the EHS pool opened for lap swim because I haven’t been able to do my favorite sport since the swim season ended in the fall and I need it now more than ever. Once I’m swimming, it’s like all my problems disappear and it’s just me and getting the wall in front of my face.  
I complete my last flip turn off the wall and freestyle finish to the end of the lane where all of my stuff is just as my time slot ends. I pull off my cap and goggles and shove them into my gear bag before climbing out of the pool and heading to the showers.  
I rinse off and pull my sticky one-piece suit from my body. I dry off and dress quickly, pulling out my brush to comb through my hair. When I look up, Gina is standing right there. My heart stops and I leap back.  
“Gina?” I gasp.  
“Morgan?” she responds. Her eyebrows are scrunched together and I realize she’s just as surprised as I am.  
“Hey,” I blush.  
“Hi,” she smiles. Her arms, in a breezy button-up, sit awkwardly at her sides. I’m suddenly self-conscious of my outfit: black sweatpants and an EHS long sleeve shirt that I chose specifically because I knew it would be comfy for the way home. “Were you here to lap swim?” she asks me.  
“What? Oh yeah,” I shake my head to come back to the conversation. “I didn’t know you swim.” I mentally quick myself immediately. What am I saying?  
“Oh, I don’t,” she laughs. “I generally like to stick to dancing on land.” There’s an awkward pause, but before I can ask her anything further she jumps back in. “EJ’s my ride home, but he has water polo practice, so I have to wait for him in the bleachers.”  
“Oh,” I nod. Immediately, a great and terrible idea hits me and I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “I could give you a ride home right now so you don’t have to wait.”  
“Really?” Gina asks gratefully.  
“Yeah,” I assure her. “Your place is on the way home anyway.”  
“That would be great.” 

Happy only grumbles a little at having to make an extra stop. Gina apologizes profusely but I assure her it’s not a big deal. We kill the time in the back seat talking about French class, the show, and our friends. It’s the perfect opening to something that’s been bugging me for a while, but it takes me some time to summon up the courage to bring it up for some reason.  
“I can’t crack EJ,” I finally admit. Gina looks up at me in puzzlement.  
“What do you mean?” she asks.  
“You have such easy camaraderie, but I’m supposed to be his love interest and we can barely hold a conversation.” The dancer nods in understanding.  
“Okay, first of all, that has nothing to do with you,” she starts after a moment. “EJ has a hard time opening up to people because he’s an only child and his parents are never around.”  
“Damn, okay,” I respond. Gina laughs.  
“To be honest, I think he’s really anxious about his part,” she tells me.  
“HE’s anxious? I can’t even tell,” I say. “Meanwhile I’m repressing the show because the idea of going on stage makes me want to puke every time.”  
“Morgan,” she breathes sympathetically, She places her hand on my shoulder and my heart starts beating even faster. “I had no idea you had such bad stage anxiety.”  
“Yeah, well, I also have a crippling fear of letting people down, so….” Gina laughs again, but not unkindly.  
“Can you pinpoint exactly what makes you nervous?” she asks.  
“I dunno…” I mumble. “I guess just the idea of so many eyes judging me and thinking thoughts about me and paying attention to me.”  
She ponders this a moment. “Do you know why I love theater?” she asks. I shake my head. “Because you get to be someone completely different. You’re not on a stage in front of an audience in Utah, you’re in the 18th-century French countryside.”  
“Huh,” I huff. I guess that… sort of makes sense.  
“And in that same vein, when you’re in a scene, you’re not Morgan pretending to fall for EJ, you’re Belle falling for the Beast.”  
“Okay,” I nod. “I think I get it.” Gina smiles and Happy pulls up in front of Ash’s driveway. “Thank you,” I blurt, before she can go for the door.  
“Anytime,” she grins. “I mean it.” She looks back at me once more before pushing open the door and slipping out. I lean back against the seat, catching my breath, and I can’t tamper down my smile the rest of the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol can you tell I'm a swimmer? i might have included too many details at the beginning, but it made this chapter longer anyhow. these past two chapters have been more filler than anything, but I think the next one is going to be a douzy, so be on the lookout for that in the coming weeks!  
> thank you so much for all the love, y'all are amazing! *mwah*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know this crossover is very niche, but I hope I did both of the fandoms justice! I've been wanting to write a Morgan story for a while, and I thought, why not include all my other comfort characters? 
> 
> I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes! I'm planning on updating every other week so you shouldn't be kept waiting for too long <3
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts and predictions!


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